Returning Favours
by eridani
Summary: AJ: Alanna does a favour for Jonathan. Set sometime during ItHotG. Courtiers, hair dyes, potions, dresses and silk stockings etc... Light hearted fluff, but not completely implausable. Rated for later chapters.
1. Default Chapter

Alanna frowned as she dubiously inspected the many and varied bolts of material before her. Dressed as a well-to-do young lady and chaperoned by Mistress Cooper, she had ventured out in to the merchant district to purchase a new ensemble for her slowly growing feminine wardrobe. They had spent the greater part of the morning browsing through materials and designs and as yet, had made little headway.  
  
Buying women's clothes was not so unfamiliar to her these days and more often than not Alanna enjoyed the experience of selecting pretty skirts and soft stockings, but this time was a little different- this dress had to be very particular.  
  
Of late she had noticed that the rest of her friends were not so subtly ribbing Jonathan about his 'changed ways'. At court functions Jonathan would flirt half-heartedly with the beauties that shamelessly threw themselves at his feet, but had not left with one for months. Obviously none could know the true reason behind his restraint so Jon had simply laughed the comments off, something she was particularly grateful for.  
  
Though no one would ever comment aloud, Jonathan's reputation with court ladies was well known and Alanna could see his suddenly chaste behaviour was probably the subject of many a rumour among the gossips. She appreciated the lengths he was going to for her sake and had come up with a way to possibly combat the rumour mills- but she was yet to consult Jon, and wasn't even sure if she could pull off a stunt of the kind she was planning.  
  
She would attend the next ball not as the crown Prince's squire, rather as one of the many court ladies, giving Jonathan someone to devote his attentions to. Squire Alan would be sent on an 'errand' while Alanna appeared as the daughter of a rich merchant passing through Corus. She held no illusions of the difficulty, and extreme risks, involved in such an undertaking- her disguise would have to be seamless. The copper hair and purple eyes would have to go and she would have to be well dressed but inconspicuous simultaneously. It would seem strange for the Prince, who had his pick of all of the female courtiers, to choose a mere wallflower; but her alias couldn't be allowed to be too memorable.  
  
Here in lay the difficulty of choosing a dress. It needed to be fashionable and well designed without being eye catching or the topic of conversation for the next week; not too revealing or in unconventional shades. Of course balancing practicality, there was also her somewhat sheepish, almost embarrassed, desire to look good for Jonathan's benefit. The thought seemed flippant and ridiculous, not to mention quite out of her own character, but she could do little to suppress the wish besides simply trying to ignore it.  
  
The vibrant materials delighted her developing feminine tastes but practically, she knew that she could not realistically consider colours like the vermilion reds or acidic greens in front of her, if she did not wish to draw a great deal of attention to herself. So instead she directed her interests to the more demure pastilles and whites.  
  
After long consideration and a lot of advice from Mistress Cooper, Alanna settled on cream brocade, with delicately picked coppery-gold embroidery. Her chaperone assured her the cream suited her colouring while the fine copper thread would bring out what reddish tones she would have left in her hair after she had done dyeing it.  
  
For reasons unknown, she was loath to part with her fiery curls, and had decided on a natural henna dye that would temporarily darken her hair to a rich chocolate brown, without completely covering her hair's natural ruddy tint. The dye she had purchased was supposed to rinse out in one wash, and she prayed to the gods above that it would do so- a newly made brunette Squire Alan would be very suspect indeed.  
  
However, compared to her eyes, the problem of her hair was insignificant indeed. She knew of no other way to change her eye colour than by illusion and that would use a great deal of her energy. The problem with illusions was that the magic wasn't directed at the object, rather at those who saw the object. This meant she would have to basically broadcast the illusion to everyone in the great hall. She knew that would take huge amounts of concentration and leave almost no room to focus on anything else. The idea of an illusion really was quite unrealistic.  
  
Feeling Mistress Cooper tug none so gently on her elbow, Alanna quickly returned her attention to the dress patterns spread on a counter before her. There were so many to choose from and she looked at her chaperone with a slightly panicked and bewildered expression. Here Mistress Cooper took charge.  
  
"Well, we can forget these," she said, removing the most revealing of the dresses. "And this," she added, also taking a conspicuously old fashioned design from the group. Eventually, unable to decide on any particular dress, she spoke with the store's seamstress and managed to work out a deal that would incorporate the best parts of two designs she liked. Unfortunately this meant she would have to pay for a customised dress- a far more expensive dress.  
  
After being measured, she forked out the considerable sum thinking her latest 'amusement' was becoming very pricey indeed and vehemently hoped Jonathan would be 'very bloody grateful' for her efforts.  
  
Later that afternoon, as she ate tea at Mistress Cooper's house, she broached the subject of her eyes. Much to her relief her mentor in women's business was able to offer a possible solution to the complication. Mistress Cooper explained that magics other than the Gift might be more suitable for such a situation, magics such as the kind a hedge witch dealt with. At first Alanna was greatly reluctant to trust something as crucial as her sight to an unknown hedge-witch, but the older woman was quick to inform her of a friend who could be trusted with such a task. By the end of the conversation Alanna was quite satisfied that a hedge-witch's potion would cure her of her purple eyes for a short while without harm, and best yet, would require no effort on her part other than taking a draught.  
  
That evening as she made her way back to the palace she thought about what to say to Jon. Should she even say anything at all? It would certainly make for a brilliant surprise when he eventually identified her. She imagined the look on his face, and the idea immediately sold itself to her. She would keep her plan a secret.  
  
Spring was arriving in the coming weeks and with it would come the beginning of the party season. The opening ball was to be held in two weeks time, giving her plenty of time to return for a dress fitting, strike a deal with Mistress Cooper's friend and find a suitable excuse for Squire Alan's absence. Simple. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh! Is this an UPDATE! I believe it is! It's only nearly two years late!**

Two years late indeed... I apologise for the excessive wait, but unfortunately real life got in the way, and by the time I got back into the fanfiction world, I was busy being obsessed with a different, well, several different,fandoms. Nevertheless, here it is! I've changed quite a bit since I wrote the first chapter ofthis, and accordingly, my writing style may have changed too. So expect some differences- aside from the tone, it seems the plot has taken on a mind of it's own and taken a detour or two down the side streets- but have faith, essentially I'm sticking to the original plan. I have quite a bit of free time on my hands, so maybe this will be finished in the not too distant future (i.e. not in two years' distant future).

Disclaimer: The characters and settingetc aren't mine. However, just because TP owns them, doesn't mean I have to agree with what she doeswith them all the time.

Warnings: 1- this has not been beta-ed, so excuse the odd typo or two. 2- this chapter deserves the PG-13/T rating. 3- I haven't read the books in years and if my character realisation is a bit off, let me know via a review.

**Chapter 2**

Alanna desperately fought not to fidget, attempting to ignore the scores of pins that dug into tender spots across her body. Despite the fact she had endured far worse in her time, she found it increasingly difficult to stay still. She felt there was something particularly sadistic in being fitted for a dress- it started with a little discomfort here and there, until one suddenly found oneself unable to breathe for fear of having one's top layer of skin scraped off by the virtual armoury of pins concealed in the folds and tucks of one's gown. This was the side of women's life she despised- that, along with embroidery, house keeping, sewing and purse netting.

The bespectacled seamstress darted behind her vision and she resisted the temptation to turn to see what the woman was fiddling with at her back. Without warning the dress was tugged in tight around her waist, her eyes widening as half a dozen pins dug in. Alanna took a deep inhalation, trying to get the skin on her stomach as far from the pins as physically possible.

'Now, now, dear, you can't do that,' came the exasperated reprimand of the dressmaker. 'You keep doing that, missy, and the dress will be too tight. Unless of course you wish to faint for the lack of air when you wear it!'

Alanna said nothing in response, but sent a pleading look in her companion's direction. Mistress Cooper, looking on from a chair in the corner, offered no help and merely chuckled at the distressed knight-to-be. Disgusted, Alanna turned away scowling.

An unbearably long time later Alanna was allowed to step down off the fitting stool and inspect the dress to her great relief. It was heavy- very heavy, a fact that could be explained by the many metres of fabric and hoops. And the velveteen! The panelling of the top skirt had been constructed from a burgundy velveteen that weighed heavily on the hoop and countless underskirts. She inspected them sceptically, twisting this way and that, sure that they had not been included in the original design for the dress. Apparently the seamstress and George's mother were conspiring against her.

'The dress needs them, dear. Don't fuss with them.'

Mistress Cooper's practical advice rang out unasked from the corner where she and the seamstress glanced at Alanna with critical, but satisfied, eyes. Her matronly variety of logic often irked Alanna, most likely because it made her ignorance of feminine matters all the more apparent, but she obediently removed her fidgeting hands from the dress.

A tall, silvered looking glass stood against a wall and she turned slowly to see the full effect of the dress. Despite its heaviness and being cumbersome, she had to admit, it didn't look half bad. The laced corset gave her waist a definition it didn't naturally have, thanks in most part to muscle built up through long hours of training. Perhaps what surprised her the most was the appearance of a cleavage it gave her. She looked down, wryly impressed by the exaggerated curves of her breasts and marvelling at the illusion.

She was reminded of one of the uncommonly bawdy discussions that had taken place between her male peers. It had been one of those conversations where she hadn't quite known whether to fight a creeping blush and partake or roll her eyes in derision and walk away. Boys and young men, it seemed, had a bizarre fascination with the female body- one, that as a member of the sex so frequently discussed, had caused her a great deal of awkwardness in her years in disguise. She hadn't really understood their obsession until… Who was she kidding? She still didn't _really_ get it. However, Jonathan had contributed much to her education in her own femineity.

At that thought, a deep blush settled across her complexion and she fought the hint of a smile that tried to work the corners of her mouth.

In all seriousness, she hadn't quite accepted this new aspect of her personality that seemed to be gradually unfolding. She had come to realise recently that being 'feminine' was a lot more than merely wearing dresses, walking gracefully and feeling pretty. In fact, in her admittedly limited experienced, she suspected that being a member of the female sex had in actuality very little to do corsetry and lace and a lot to do with simpler things, like the way she felt when Jon's hands rested against her hips, or the fact that pleasure had crept up unseen beside the apprehension that had initially marked the experience of being kissed. With every day that passed, she became a little more certain that her girlhood, or womanhood more precisely, was defined not by the number of petticoats locked in her hidden chest but by the four walls of the room she shared with Jonathan. Sometimes she even dared to consider the fact that one day, some distant day after she had earned her shield and when the repression and subversion of her sex was no longer necessary, her femineity would enjoy even wider horizons.

This slowly dawning realisation, while exciting, perturbed her. It was an unsettling experience to find that one's preconceived notions, and even rejection of, her own sex were not as reliable has she had thought. It had been easier to emulate masculinity and dismiss her own sex when she thought of noble women as no more than empty-headed crinoline cages blanched by face paint. Apparently the truth was somewhat more complicated.

That evening, as she peeled back the bandaging that hid her chest and bound her ribcage, she breathed a sigh of relief. Ultimately, she realised, there wasn't much difference between her bandages and the corset she had worn during her fitting- in a strange way, they were both worn at the demands of the world around her, and moreover, she couldn't breathe in either of them.

The irony of it amused her and she was still laughing quietly when a knock sounded on the door separating Jon's rooms for her own. Thanks to her paranoid reflexes, which had been well honed over the years, her arms immediately jumped to cover herself.

'Uh, yeah?' she called hesitantly as she glanced down at the semi-naked position she found herself in.

'It's only me.'

The door swung open a little way and Jon appeared from behind it. Alanna inwardly berated herself for being so jumpy, but nevertheless didn't remove her arms from their protective position across her chest. Partial nakedness was still an awkward state for her to be in, regardless of whom she was with.

Jon didn't say anything as he took in her stiff discomfort, clothed lower half and bare top as she perched on the edge of her bed. He walked to her, coming to kneel in front of her as her eyes tracked him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. A soft kiss was brushed against her forehead, which confused Alanna all the more- it felt different to all the other forms of endearment they had shared, asexual even. Perplexed by his silence and actions, she glanced questioningly at him as he pulled away, looking for some kind of indication as to what was going on.

She received no answer other than the raising of his hands to cover her wrists. The proximity of his hands to her breasts caused her arms to lock stiffly as her deeply ingrained modesty once again flared to life. Gently, her arms were tugged away and nudged to her sides, as he critically looked her up and down.

'You needn't do that.'

'Needn't do wh-'

The words were never given the opportunity to leave her mouth properly, instead hindered by his lips descending over hers. This kiss was entreating where the other hadn't been- the kind she had come to expect from him. She could feel herself being guided backwards onto the bed by hands that pressed at her waist and kneaded in that pleasurable fashion. His mouth traced a meandering pattern across her jaw and throat, her neck arching in response.

And as she inhaled deeply, searching for more oxygen, she felt that tightly bound part inside of herself unfold just a little.

* * *

Later, as she lay half across him, sprawled haphazardly while his fingers sifted lazily through her cropped hair, she was tempted to reveal her plans. The thought of the surprise was enough to deter her however, and she smiled against his chest, suppressing a laugh. 

'What's so amusing?' Jon's half-asleep voice inquired.

'Oh nothing, nothing at all.'

.--.

**Feedback is not only polite, but really givesthis authoress akick, good or bad. So, go ahead, make my day.**


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the ridiculous gaps between updates, I decided to pick this one up again today. Here is a very belated Chapter 3. Alanna's gradually ticking off all the tasks and errands leading up to her plan. It has been several years since I read the SotL, so let me know if there are any continuity issues. Enjoy!!

**Chapter 3**

She arranged to meet Mistress Cooper again in the lower city at the end of that week, hoping that all her time away from the Palace wasn't attracting too much attention. People would start to ask questions if she spent every last free minute down there. They met at the seamstress' rooms for her final dress fitting before George's mother led her through a veritable maze of alleyways into the city's least reputable district. The roughly cobbled back streets they wandered through were far seedier than even the district around the Dancing Dove, and the people that haunted the streets bleaker than its usual patrons. The women leaning on street corners didn't laugh saucily, or advertise their prices with a twinkle in their eye- instead these girls, barely out of childhood, loitered half-naked with hollowed out cheeks. They passed few other pedestrians in the narrow, dingy streets and the few that they did see tended to keep their heads down and hurry to their destinations.

Alanna cast a wary look over at Eleni as she purposefully wound her way through the rabbit's warren of alleys. She thought of the small dagger she kept concealed under her dress and wished longingly for Lightning. Even though she could make good use of the dagger if it came to a confrontation, the visibility of a sword strapped to her hip made a confrontation that much less likely to begin with.

'Do you come here often?' she asked the older woman.

'Not often, no. While my son's reputation affords me far greater protection than most, there are many here that care little for him, nor the peculiar thieves' code of honour he enforces. However, the lady I'm taking you to has been of great help to me in the past and a woman of her... talents... cannot be found amongst more law abiding folk.'

Alanna wondered exactly what this witch's 'talents' involved, that required she live away from respectable people as they continued on.

When Mistress Cooper finally stopped outside an abandoned looking building, Alanna was surprised that anybody could possibly make their home there. The windows were boarded up and the horse-hair and plaster walls appeared to be crumbling. Eleni rapped against the rotting door and it creaked open to reveal a weathered old woman who hurried them inside.

The interior of the house was dark, lit only by hanging oil lamps, and a bizarre concoction of smells assaulted Alanna's senses. The floor was cluttered with barrels of Mithros knows what- some smelled vinegary, some like lye, and one or two that reeked distinctly of urine- and above their heads hung bunches of drying herbs and flowers. The fumes of the burning lamps mingled with the strong odours all around the room to produce a headache-inducing effluvium.

Mistress Cooper introduced her to the haggard looking woman and explained the nature of their visit. The witch merely 'hmmmed' vaguely in reply as she fossicked through a wall of sliding drawers. Eventually she clicked her tongue in satisfaction and brandished a handful of small vials filled with a curiously viscous liquid.

'This should do the trick, young one,' the woman wheezed with a paper-thin voice.

Alanna eyed them cautiously. 'What colour will they change my eyes to?'

'Which colour would you like?' She laid them out on a granite counter and pointed to each with an arthritic finger. 'I can give you smoky grey, clear blue, black, honey brown, dark brown, green, hazel- red even.'

With a questioning look in Mistress Cooper's direction, Alanna replied, 'Hazel might be best?'

The woman unstoppered one of the vials and tipped a drop on to a spoon, holding it expectantly towards Alanna. 'Don't you want to try it first? It won't last long.'

Hesitantly, Alanna took the spoon and licked the molasses-like drop off the end, grimacing at the bitter taste. It was only seconds before she began to feel a subtle prickling in her eyes and she rubbed them as they began to water. When she brought her hands away from her face the wrinkled old woman was holding a mirror and lamp up, allowing her to see her changed appearance. Staring back at her from the glass was a very different Alanna. Gone were her usually conspicuous violet eyes, replaced by brown and green flecked irises that looked surprisingly natural against her skin and hair.

Mistress Cooper smiled encouragingly. 'It looks perfect, Alanna. I dare say, if it weren't for the touch of the gods upon you, you might well have had eyes just like that.'

The old woman decanted more of the thick liquid into a clean vial and instructed Alanna to be sure she drank all of it, if she wished to have the spell last all night. The draught set her back more than she had expected, but its rapid and convincing effect was well worth it.

As she and Mistress Cooper made their farewells, the old woman caught Alanna by the wrist and turned an intense gaze on her. In the gray light flooding in from the open door the old woman's eyes seemed suddenly clearer and sharper.

'The Goddess has given you a hard path to walk, warrior woman,' the witch spoke quietly but firmly, with none of the raspiness of before. 'Love will ease that path, but be sure that it does not sway you from your purpose. You have great things to do yet.'

Slightly alarmed, Alanna looked for Eleni, but she was already waiting in the alleyway outside. She pulled her hand away and began to stutter, 'How...?'

But the old woman waved her off, ushering her out the door. 'We in the service of the Goddess are many and varied.' And with that cryptic explanation she closed the door, leaving Alanna on the street with Mistress Cooper utterly bewildered.

Alanna was quiet for the rest of the day, thinking about the old woman's strange warning and wondering what it was supposed to mean. The Goddess had told her to learn to love and love she had. It had been only short months since the night of her 17th birthday but already she was learning that crossing physical boundaries with Jonathan was but a small part of the business of loving another person. The real work to be done was in the opening up and sharing the hopes and fears that she had so tenaciously locked away to maintain her secret. The memory of her father's incapacitation after her mother's death still hung over her a good deal of the time and sometimes she felt she had to squash down the thrill of joy that Jonathan left in her for fear of becoming too accustomed to it. To love was to one day lose and that was a fear she had yet to accept.

Mistaking Alanna's pensive mood for tiredness, Mistress Cooper suggested they cut their day short after they had picked up the dress from the seamstress and Alanna, still distracted, changed back into her squire's ensemble and meandered back to the palace.

That afternoon, she was lying on her floor halfway under her bed as she tried to push the locked chest which now contained her new dress back under the bed frame when Jonathan unexpectedly called her name from the other side of the door. She bumped her head in surprise and cursed while she tried to scramble out from under the bed and pat down her rumpled tunic. She glanced in the mirror hurriedly to check that her eyes had resumed their normal colour before throwing open the door between her and Jonathan's rooms.

'Hi,' she tried to say as naturally as possible. 'What's up?

Jonathan stood on the other side of the threshold with a curious look on his face, one eyebrow raised. 'Everything ok?' he asked with a bemused tone.

'Sure,' she said, keeping up the bright tone. Jonathan knew most of her tells by now and she needed to dissuade his curiosity as much as possible. 'Everything's great. Was there something you needed?'

His eyes flicked over the room behind her as he replied, 'No, no. I was just going to ask if you wanted to come down to the practice courts. Gary and Alex are going to be sparring. Gary lost some crazy bet, and now Alex is making him fight him. I thought you might like to help Raoul and I heckle.'

Alanna was thankful he seemed to have dropped his questioning. 'You know I wouldn't want to miss that,' she said, grinning, as she pulled on a pair of boots.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Kindly leave a review!!


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